Like And Unlike
by tielan
Summary: As he grows, Torran Emmagan discovers who he is and who he will be. Team fic.


**NOTES**: Written for the sga_flashfic "kids" challenge. I wanted to call it 'Flags Of Our Fathers' because...well, you'll see...

**Like And Unlike**

Rodney is muttering to himself - again. Torran knows to ignore it, because Rodney isn't mad at him, he's just frustrated by his work.

Sometimes he wonders why Rodney does this if the work is so frustrating. But he knows the answer without being told - because there is so much to learn, to know, to discover, to solve.

On the computer keyboard, Torran picks out the commands that he's been instructed to complete - 'drone work,' warned Dr. Radek, although he was smiling as he said it.

In truth, the lines are simple enough to type in, so he sets himself to deciphering their meaning. And pauses. Perhaps he is not quite ten, but he understands what these words mean, what they must be doing to the system. And he may not be Rodney, but he knows that what they are doing cannot be right.

"Rodney? The commands you gave me--"

"Haven't you typed them in yet? They were easy enou-- Oh, what? No! It shouldn't be--" Rodney flutters at a computer screen whose cursor flashes red, a periodic warning against...something.

"These commands... I do not believe they're--"

"Torran, I don't have time right now--"

Sometimes, it is best to ignore Rodney and do what needs doing. Mama, John, and Ronon have said this - a trustworthy trio of authority.

He types in a simple command, presses enter, and the blinking cursor turns green. All is well.

At least, all is well but for the scolding Rodney gives him for not clearing his actions with Rodney first.

He remembers the day because it was the first time he solved a problem the way Rodney does.

--

He watches Ronon fight from the safety window seat of the Atlantis gym. Light gleams off the _bantos_ as Mama and Ronon circle each other across the mats.

He is pleased to see that, although Mama is smaller than Ronon, she is smarter, faster. Her blows hit flesh, while Ronon's only meet her _bantos_ or air. Swift as birds, sharp as flying knives, he watches in awe as they clash and clash again, until Mama takes Ronon out.

When Ronon turns to him, though, he is speechless - and terrified and excited and thrilled, all at once. He has learned the exercises, been permitted to watch the sparring between Mama and Ronon, between Mama and John, and between Ronon and the marines.

He has never been invited to the mat.

"Give it a try, Torran?"

"Ronon..." Mama's voice is warning.

"He's knows the basics. He's old enough. Sateda starts training at eight," Ronon says. And his grin is warm and wild. "And you'll be as good as your mother, given the right training."

Atlantis is not Sateda, but Torran is allowed to begin training - _real_ training - with Ronon that day.

He remembers both the victory of Mama's permission, and the gleaming satisfaction of Ronon's praise.

--

John allows him to have popcorn and soda while they watch _Wall-E_.

Torran remembers the caramel sugar of the popcorn in his mouth, the tickle of the fizzy soda-pop on his tongue. He remembers John saying that the little white robot with the gun reminded him of Mama.

"But Mama doesn't shoot _everything_," Torran says, frowning as Eva pulls out her gun again and Wall-E tries to persuade her to put it away. "Only bad guys."

"That's very true. But she usually knows what to do." John's face tilts in a way that suggests he's thinking over what he's just said. "Or not do. Good instincts."

"Do I have good instincts?"

One hand ruffles his hair, affectionate and approving. "Yeah, you do."

Torran grinned, pleased by the approval, although it vanished when Mama found them and the popcorn and the soda-pop just as the movie was ending, and arched a brow at John. "When you said you would be showing Torran a movie with snacks, I believed you meant the _harakia_ and _mitho_."

"Actually, I meant popcorn and soda." John does not sound sorry, and Torran is glad. Mama is strict about his food - the Lantean foods are sugary and fatty and too much is not good for him.

"So I see."

"We're going to watch _Toy Story_ next," he tells Mama. "Will you watch with us?"

She looks at John over Torran's head, then smiles. "I have some time before dinner. I believe I shall."

He remembers snuggling down between them, utterly content.

--

Torran and his father are going to the gateroom to see Mama return with her team. Dr. Jennifer glances back, smiling lightly at him, and he smiles back, although he senses that something is not right.

The hands that hold him are warm, rough-palmed, strong-boned, and Torran knows that in these hands he is safe and protected. And yet, even as they reach the gateroom, and the Stargate flares open with a wild, bright light, he feels the desire to be free of his father's arms, and struggles to be let down. He is four - old enough to stand on his own feet, even among the adults.

"You must stay by me," his father says, letting him down while holding his hand. "Mama is fine, but Ronon has been hurt. We must give Dr. Jennifer room to work on him."

He nods, and holds fast to the larger hand, security and safety, even as he sees John and Mama stumble through, Ronon held between them as Rodney comes through after.

"We bound it," Mama is saying as they stand aside for Dr. Jennifer and her nurses. "Packed it tight as we could, but he has lost much blood..."

She is tense. Afraid. So are John and Rodney. And Torran does not want to stand to the side. Carefully - gently - Torran disentangles his hand from his father's, and walks across the floor to Mama. She sees him coming and does not tell him he should not be here, but holds out her hand and lets him wait with her while they see to Ronon.

When Torran reflects on that day, he remembers that his father stood present, but apart - an anchor in Torran's world, as, perhaps, he was an anchor for Mama.

It is the only clear memory he has of Kanaan of Athos.

- **fin** -


End file.
